


40 Year Old Virgin(s)

by freshest



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 40 year old virgins, Alcoholism, Anxiety, Both are gay and have hated themselves their whole lives for it cause Derry is the worst, Canon Compliant, Childhood Trauma, Derry (Stephen King) is Terrible, Eddie's issues in general hello, Eddie's not actually married, Everyone's alive and thriving, First Kiss, First Time, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mention of past drug abuse w cocaine, No really I'm serious internalized homophobia is a HUGE theme in this, Paranoia, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Richie and Eddie are both VIRGINS af, Richie dislikes his weight and it's v explicit, Richie has some body image issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Sonia is abusive af and should suffer in hell for it u know, This is right after they fight IT, Years of Pining, but like it's good crying, canon typical bigotry, canon typical homophobia, eddie is alive, eventual first time anyway part one is them confessing part two will be FUCKERY, eventual smut in part 2, explicit rating for this chapter is literally just for that alone, i mean literally neither have ever even kissed before so!, mostly - Freeform, richie's mouth is lewd as ever, so pls do not expect ransone!eddie lol, stan is alive, they both cry so much in this, they both have a LOT of issues, they're EMOTIONAl and IN LOVE and TRAUMATIZED, this is a lot more book compliant than movie compliant, this is them literally coming out to each other and admitting love and working on their issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22629325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshest/pseuds/freshest
Summary: Richie figures that life will get a little better after defeating IT, but he doesn't realize how good it's going to get. Eddie comes to him afterwards to confess some things Richie never anticipated. They're both vulnerable and inexperienced and are gonna learn to embrace it. Together.AKA Richie and Eddie find out they've both been wildly in love with each other. They also find out they're both virgins (not in this part) and that they both have never done any of this before. What's a guy to do.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 177





	40 Year Old Virgin(s)

**Author's Note:**

> Some of my beautiful followers over on my Tumblr (freshreddie) gave me this amazing idea about what if Richie and Eddie were BOTH virgins - and I marveled at the very idea. A lot of people have Richie having had a lot of sex or some sex prior to Eddie, but I was like wait a second........................Imagine if......................
> 
> Anyway this fic is really emotional and it's a lot of introspection about Richie's personal struggles. It's very explicit about him feeling negatively about his sexuality and body and his life, and Eddie gets pretty explicit too. This is a fic about healing and them loving each other and helping each other through their issues. I was originally going to make just a smut one shot, but then it got emotional and now it's going to be like...a two parter...(presumably - unless I do more oops).
> 
> This first part is them getting together. I realized as I was writing it that they wouldn't just fall into bed immediately because they both......have a lot of issues and so I think next part will be them ..just kind of developing and realizing they're virgins/inexperienced in an identical way for identical reasons & working with that. 
> 
> I would of finished all of this in one go and had a MEGA FIC but it's like 5 am and I probably should maybe pop an ambien before I have REgrets. But I'll get the second part up fast cause this was real easy and nice to write.
> 
> I don't beta my work cause i'm a fucking animal and I feel no fear. Sorry for any typos/glaring errors. Hope ya'll enjoy this sob fest.

You would think that killing the embodiment of fear and evil itself would be the most surreal thing Richie Tozier had ever experienced. It was pretty up there, for sure, but it had nothing on Eddie Kaspbrak.

Particularly it had nothing on _kissing_ Eddie Kaspbrak.

After the Losers had reconvened at the Townhouse, they had all been too exhausted to really celebrate. Stan was the one to suggest that they all go and take a hot shower to wash everything off, and Eddie had been in immediate agreement. They could rest up, order in some pizza, and try to figure out what was supposed to come next in life now that the trauma that had been haunting them all for nearly thirty years was officially defeated.

Richie wasn’t usually one to indulge in long showers. They were always just a means of getting clean and that was that. Nothing fancy. He was that unbearable guy who figured his 2-in-1 shampoo/conditioner mix was the same thing as body wash and face wash and used it more as a 4-in-1 to save time and energy.

But on this particular day Richie decided to use the Townhouse’s fancy complimentary shampoo and conditioner. He even used the little packet of face wash and discovered that apparently there was a difference. Richie just wanted a deeper clean than the usual 4-in-1. He supposed fighting a clown would do that to a guy. Real character development is the hygiene skills you gain along the way – or something.

He was so sparkling clean by the time he stepped out of the shower that he wasn’t sure who between Stan and Eddie would be more impressed. Richie had even cleaned under his fingernails and behind his ears. Anything to get sewage and clown gore off.

Brushing his teeth and using roughly 10 oz of mouthwash was a religious experience. He hadn’t realized how much sewage water he’d swallowed until he was tasting minty release.

These were all the things Richie Tozier had been focused on. Getting clean. How crappy he had felt and how much better he was beginning to feel. When he left the bathroom, he crashed into his bed in nothing but his boxers and figured that he could take a nap. No doubt the other Losers were doing the same and sleep instantly washed over him. He didn’t dream. It was just a comforting blackness that swaddled him up.

When a knock lulled him out of his sleep, his room was dark, and he had to look blearily around for the clock to see how much time had passed. Four hours. The sun had set. The knock persisted.

“Yeah! Yup!” Richie shouted, pulling himself to the edge of the bed. “Gimme a second.”

The knocking stopped, but Richie could see the shadow under the door hadn’t moved. He wondered if it was Bill coming to tell him they were ready for food. Richie found the lamp’s switch and flicked it on. Once he found his glasses, he was on his feet and heading over to the door.

Eddie was on the other side, looking somehow cleaner than Richie felt, and Richie was silently awed. It had been wild to see Eddie again after all these years. He was older now, sure, but God, had he grown into himself. Eddie had been a beautiful kid, and he had grown up into a gorgeous man, and it was distracting even when Richie tried his best to look at Eddie out of the corner of his eye instead head on.

Back at the Jade when they had first seen each other, there had been plenty to distract Richie from having to deal with this one-on-one. Richie was able to swing back drink after drink and effectively bury down everything he felt, but now?

Now Eddie was standing there with big gray eyes and a worn-down Sailor Moon t-shirt that Richie instantly recognized from their childhood. He couldn’t help but smirk and poke Eddie right in the chest.

“Dude, you still have that?”

Eddie instantly scowled, pushing Richie’s hand away. “I’m not going to throw away a perfectly good t-shirt.”

“I can’t believe it still _fits._ ”

“My mom would always buy shirts in a few sizes up!” Eddie defended himself, nudging his glasses up- wait. _Glasses._

“When did you start wearing those?” Richie asked, enthralled. They were simple golden wire frames. Circle. Absolute nerd material and Richie felt a little breathless.

Eddie seemed to have forgotten he’d been wearing his glasses at all because he immediately blushed and yanked his glasses off of his face.

“They’re for reading,” Eddie said, “Don’t say anything.”

“But you’re so _cuuute,_ Eds,” crooned Richie, already grabbing at Eddie’s cheek. It was so easy to fall back into how he used to be with Eddie. Some parts of him had never really grown up, and it seemed Eddie wasn’t far off, because he was whining just the same as when he was eleven.

“Richie, _stop._ ” Richie smirked, dropping his hand, and finally leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So, if you’re not here to be mercilessly groped by me, then what can I do ya for? We ready to go to pound town on some meat-lovers pizza?” Richie asked.

“No,” Eddie said, and then glanced down the hallway, before looking back at Richie. “I just-. We didn’t exactly get to…Talk earlier. Before, I mean. At the Jade. I mean specifically you and me.”

“We talked,” Richie said, suddenly feeling a little bit more guarded. What was there to talk about? Nothing to talk about here. No way, no how. Richie was barely prepared for an average day in the life of His Shitty Existence but he definitely wasn’t ready for a one-on-one with Eddie Kaspbrak. He needed a little bit more time. He’d only just remembered the face that he had been dreaming of for the past near-thirty years. He’d only just remembered the sole reason that had made it so difficult, so _impossible_ , for him to ever date.

And he knew he couldn’t push it. It was _Eddie._ Eddie who was married, Eddie who was too good for him and always had been. Eddie who Richie had never wanted to chain down. More than anything, Richie had never wanted to lose Eddie to all of that. He had always told himself it was fine if they stayed friends – it was more important to have Eddie in his life than not have him at all, right?

_But you haven’t had him in your life. You haven’t had anyone in your life, but least of all Eddie._

“I mean, I had just downloaded Backdoor Sluts 9 to destress here so unless you wanna get a first seat row to the Tozier Spank Bank then-.”

“God, shut up. You’re so disgusting,” Eddie grimaced, but then he looked a bit uncertain. “And we barely talked.”

Richie knew there would be no way of getting out of this without looking suspicious. So, he pushed off of the door and braced himself just like he had a million times before with Eddie. It had been a while, but he could do it. For Eddie’s sake if anything.

“All right, all right,” Richie sighed dramatically, walking back into the room. He went over to turn on his other lamp. Both were kind of shitty, casting dull orange glows over the room that immediately cast Eddie in a shadowy, hazy light that had Richie’s heart spiking.

Eddie shut the door behind him and moved over to the only seat in the room – the bed. _Typical._

Richie wasn’t sure if he should join him. Beds weren’t exactly made for conversing. At least not the traditional verbal kinda conversing. It was then that Richie remembered he was in nothing but his boxers, and he immediately moved to his suitcase, feeling heat begin to crawl up the back of his neck and into his ears.

It had been a long, _long,_ long time since Richie had worked out. See: never. The last time he was skinny had been in his freshman year of college and the ole freshman fifteen had been more like a freshman thirty and his body never seemed to come back from it. Granted, the drug binges never really helped either. Richie would eat like no one’s business when he was high.

He’d cut the crap years ago when a publicist had told him it was either clean up or fuck off, and Richie had figured he’d already lost enough in his life that losing his career just maybe needed to not happen. So, he cleaned up. Didn’t even smoke cigarettes anymore if he could help it. The drinking never really left, but he needed something, and that seemed to be his best bet.

Still. That kind of lifestyle left its mark and his mark happened to be in the hefty shape of his gut and sizable thickness in his thighs. There was a generous amount of stretch marks around his hips and a bit around his belly button. He used to think it made his stomach look like a target, and sometimes he treated it as much- using his weight as a bounce board for jokes up on stage. Laugh about his body, laugh about his sexuality. _Come pay to laugh at Richie Tozier’s miserable excuse for a life, bitches. Give me fifty to a hundred bucks a pop to watch me hate myself._

And he was a hairy guy too. Not in that chiseled kind of way that people painted on shitty pulp fiction about hairy-chested cowboys saving horny damsels. He was just kind of a bear. And he was almost positive that exactly none of that, none of those details, would impress Eddie.

Eddie whose body looked tighter than ever before. Eddie who was sitting on his bed in a pair of athletic leggings and his t-shirt from his teenage years. Eddie whose hair was perfect, whose skin was clean-shaven and without any single blemish. The asshole didn’t even have acne scars. Richie didn’t think Eddie had ever even gotten acne, now that he thought about it. Richie had had a pretty bad period of it when he hit seventeen, and he still had some scarring on his cheeks that he liked to keep buried under regular five-o-clock shadow.

So yeah, Richie rushed to get some shirt on. Some old piece, not as old as Eddie’s, but old enough, and he let the Night of the Living Dead t-shirt hang over him. Next came a hoodie, just so it didn’t look quite as suspicious, and he’d have somewhere to put his hands.

“What’s up?” Richie finally asked, sitting next to Eddie, trying his best not to jitter right out of his skin.

“I lied to you,” Eddie said quickly, in a bit of a burst, his hands knotted together in his own lap. Richie was suddenly glad he’d put on his hoodie. The room felt a little colder, and he didn’t know what Eddie was talking about, but it made him ache for a drink. He stayed seated.

“About what? Being married? I fucking knew it,” Richie laughed, easing into the situation, deflecting. Deflect everything, always, it was the best bet.

“Yeah, actually,” Eddie said, and Richie just stared back at him, staring hard, because _what?_

“What?”

“I’m not- I’m not married,” Eddie said, and he unfolded his hands and held them palm up. “I lied.”

“What.” Richie knew he was a broken record here, but seriously, what was going on. He looked down at Eddie’s hands and saw that there was no ring. Which, okay, that wasn’t irrefutable proof or anything, but he realized very quickly that there was no ring _mark._ No indication of a ring constantly worn. Which okay, that might not be proof either, but Eddie had always loved rings. He was even wearing a pinkie ring like he used to as a kid – only this pinkie ring wasn’t some lousy cereal prize. It was a genuine rose gold piece with a fat ruby sitting on its face. It was almost gaudy, but Eddie kind of made it work.

So, if the guy _was_ married, Richie had a hunch he would be the sort to keep on his ring all the time. More importantly Eddie wasn’t exactly the kind of dude to keep an on-going joke. Least of all a joke like this.

“I just,” Eddie began, growing anxious from Richie’s silence, from his staring. “I just felt really fucking embarrassed. As soon as I started to remember stuff about all of you after Mike had called and was packing my bags, I realized I remembered seeing some of your names around, you know? Bev with her fashion, Ben on the cover of Time, Bill’s books getting made into movies, and you with your comedy stints. I literally have seen you on SNL before and didn’t even realize it.”

“Uh-,” Richie started, but Eddie kept on going.

“And I realized that I didn’t do shit with my life. Nothing. I’d spent my entire life being …my mom’s fucking pet and I just…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t come meet with you guys and have nothing to show for the past thirty years. What was I supposed to say? Hey guys, I own a limousine company. Yeah, that’s it.”

“Eddie…”

“Myra is just some woman I work with,” Eddie said, “And I- we did date for a little while when my mom was sick. She was just like her. My mom, I mean. Myra was just like my mom, and I think I just needed…I needed…”

Richie found himself taking his hand out of his pocket and moving it over to grab one of Eddie’s fidgeting hands. Whatever this was, it was serious, and Richie had always fucking loathed Eddie’s mom. He knew what that woman had done to Eddie, had seen the damage firsthand. Richie knew better than anyone else in the club. How many times had he held an arm around Eddie’s shoulders while he worked through a crippling panic attack because of something his mother had said? How many times had he burst into tears because he was convinced he was going to get in trouble with Sonia?

So many people thought Eddie was just annoying. They thought he was a loony just like his momma, and none of them even knew what the hell they were talking about. Richie had gotten his lip split a handful of times just screaming in someone’s face about not calling Eddie crazy. They’d call his hypochondriac paranoia irritating and tell him to shut up already. _He’s so whiny, so bitchy, such a little pussy, little sissy boy, little-._

But Richie had never thought so. He saw the way Eddie cowered in on himself, like the hand of God himself was about to smite him if he so much as moved the wrong way. It was no different than Beverly’s flinching if you moved too fast. There were different kinds of ways the world could eat you alive, and Eddie was proof of that.

“You needed what you were used to,” Richie supplied gently, “The medicine your mom choked you with your whole life. I get it, Eddie. It’s okay.”

Eddie’s body sank a little in relief, his hand clutching back at Richie’s, and he turned against him, resting his temple against Richie’s shoulder like he had a hundred times before.

“We never even kissed or anything. We didn’t even _date._ And I thought about marrying her, you know? Just because I thought it’d be easy. It would have been so easy to do, but I couldn’t. I knew if I did, I’d die in a cage shaped like my momma. And Myra wouldn’t know any different. It was just her being desperate for attention from anyone willing to give it, and me being sick in the head,” Eddie mumbled, and Richie hooked his head down, frowning.

“You’re not…Eddie, that’s not fair to you. You’re not sick. Your _mom_ was sick in the head, and what she did to you - that fucks a person up. That’s not…”

“I am sick though. I’m so sick. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Richie. I’m not just-. It’s not just my mom. It’s me. I think maybe she always saw that I was sick and maybe, all this time, she was trying to fix me,” Eddie said, his voice going quiet, going uncomfortably quiet, and Richie felt the room get even colder.

“Eddie,” he said lowly, “What are you talking about?”

Eddie was quiet then, not responding for a minute, maybe two, and Richie was about to press a bit when Eddie suddenly wrenched away from him and got to his feet. Richie was left with a cold hand and a colder gut feeling. At first, he thought Eddie was about to flee from the room, but then Eddie started to pace across the floor, his hands starting to flutter about anxiously as he started talking.

“I’ve always been sick. Ever since I could remember I knew something was fucked up in my head, off balance or something, and as I got older it got worse and worse. I never told you guys but when It cornered me that first time, It knew- It fucking _knew,_ and It taunted me with it. Knew I was messed up in the worst kind of ways.” Eddie was speaking lightning fast now, and his breathing had started to thin out. If he hadn’t lost his inhaler by shoving it down Its throat to save Richie, he’d likely be clutching it by now.

“Eds, you gotta take a deep breath, buddy,” Richie said, getting to his feet. He moved to Eddie, grabbing him by the shoulders. It didn’t matter what this was about. Richie knew Eddie wasn’t any kind of fucked up, but right now he just had to keep Eddie from stumbling into a panic attack.

“It’s okay,” Richie said steadily, rubbing Eddie’s arms, “Just breathe with me, all right?”

“Richie, I’m _gay_ ,” Eddie blurted out, the whites of his eyes pink from tears that had started to shine. He grabbed the glasses from the collar of his shirt and shoved them on his face. “I need to go. I have to go.”

Richie felt like the world had slipped out from under him, and Eddie was already slipping out from under his hands and rushing towards the door. Richie felt, for a second, like this was all just some weird dream. Maybe he had begun dreaming after the darkness had crept over him, and he looked stupidly over at his bed, as if expecting to see his body sleeping there.

But of course, there was nothing there, and Eddie was opening the door and Richie realized he had been silent for way too long. If Eddie left, Richie knew that’d be it. End game. No turning back in all the worst possible ways.

Richie used the length of hjs legs to his advantage just then. He had never been all that fast growing up except for the occasion of Bowers chasing him down, but right then he was faster than even that. He got to the door in seconds flat and slammed it shut just as Eddie got it open half way.

“Wait,” Richie blurted out, “Don’t gay I’m go too.”

That-.

Wait.

“That didn’t come out right,” Richie stammered. Eddie was turned somewhat towards him, his chest rising and falling so fast that it reminded Richie of a baby bird he’d once seen at the zoo. A peacock had laid eggs and they’d hatched, and the zoo had a small display for the babies while they grew. Their little chests had fascinated Richie. They were so small, so delicate, heartbeats raging against some fragile machine to keep up with the demands of a world that wanted to kill them. That could kill them so easily.

“Richie-.”

“I’m gay, I mean. I’m gay too. Don’t go,” Richie managed, and it wasn’t perfect, but he’d never been perfect. It didn’t matter right then, he realized, because it just mattered that Eddie didn’t go and that he knew he wasn’t alone. Not like that.

Eddie was staring now, and Richie began to panic a little. Some part of him, for just an irrational second, wondered if maybe this was some elaborate scheme to out him. He’d thought about it before. Back in college there had been a guy who had smiled at him a few times during a party. Kept catching Richie’s eye. It had been at some frat house, and Richie remembered not feeling very flattered at all.

He just felt paranoid.

Paranoid that the guy had figured out his dirty little secret and wanted to out him at the party. Maybe rope Richie in and then spit in his face, shrilling with laughter about how the awkward faggot from Derry wanted to make out with him. How disgusting it was and how everyone should avoid Richie like the plague.

Richie had left that party real fast and never even learned the guy’s name.

It never got better. Women flirted with him sometimes, though Richie never realized – a friend always having to point it out after the woman had left. Sometimes while she was right there, and they’d shoot a text message to tell him to go for it. Richie didn’t care about the company of women, didn’t have any interest in them, never had, and he never thought anyone would flirt with him in general, so it’d always fly right over his head. Richie never went for it.

Never even wanted to pretend to go for it. It was easier to laugh about how women thought he was too much of a pig, and he’d always open his mouth and say some slimy thing that would turn a woman’s flirtatious smile into a righteous sneer in seconds flat. Sometimes Richie felt bad, but it was easier that way. Easier for them to think he was a sexist little fucker than to think, to even wonder for a split second, if he was gay. _Wasn’t it easier, better?_ Wasn’t it better for people to see him as some sexist straight guy than see him for what he really was?

But occasionally there would be a guy too. A guy who felt bold in a more open-minded bar in a more open-minded city like New York City or San Francisco. A guy who would sidle up with a grin and an offer to buy a drink.

Richie would catch onto that flirting a lot more. It wasn’t something straight guys ever did to other men, so it was blatant every single time, and Richie would fall into panic just as fast as he had at the party. Only worse.

Because after he had started gaining popularity, he began to realize that the world really was his enemy. They were watching his every move even if he wasn’t an A-lister. It didn’t matter. Celebrity gossip was juicy no matter the cut of meat, and Richie had made the headline a few times in lowbrow rags like People Magazine. His drug binge had gained him a lot of notoriety, and his agent loathed him for it. Told him to be more self-aware.

So, he tried to be more self-aware.

Part of that meant figuring every guy who wanted to buy him a drink was some paparazzi goon in disguise about to expose him. There had been rumors about his alleged sexuality before floating around. Richie didn’t know where they came from, but it was just like being in Derry. He never thought he _acted_ gay, looked gay – he tried so fucking _hard_ to seem anything but. Would talk loudly and proudly about girls. Gushed about getting laid well before his dick was even operating like that and talked about making out with girls behind dumpsters. But it never did anything. There was still graffiti about him sucking cock plastered all over the bathroom walls.

It felt like everyone had always known no matter how hard he tried. But he thought being an adult would be easier. When he was a kid he was always staring at Eddie, gravitating towards him, having to touch him and be near. It was a tell-tale and he knew it, but as an adult? He never had that. So how did people know?

It made him never let a guy so much as touch his hand. He’d wrench his hand away for those that tried, and he’d ice them out. React with a scowl and jerk away with his drink and stomp off. He’d never call them anything. He might hate himself, but he’d hate himself more if he tried to shame a guy who was braver than him just by virtue of having the balls to approach him in the first place.

Those nights always wound up with him drunk as a bitch and all alone in his hotel room. It never got any better.

And he never told anyone.

Not until now.

Now that Eddie was telling him he was gay. Looking him in the eye. His best friend. The one person, the _only person,_ he had ever loved. Richie was positive right then that he would never have been able to love anyone else even if he had given himself the chance.

Everyone else wasn’t Eddie. They never would be. Even the few guys Richie had thought maybe, just maybe, they had just been clones, Richie realized. Similar build, similar height, complexion, and even a similar disposition. He was just trying to fill a void he didn’t realize had a face until just a few days ago when Mike called him up out of the blue.

“Are you kidding me?” Eddie asked, but there was no seriousness in his voice. Eddie knew he wasn’t lying. Just like Richie knew Eddie wasn’t lying.

Because now it made so much sense. Eddie had never been interested in girls all throughout high school. He never even bothered with jokes about them, not even a basic “your mom” joke. Richie used to think he was just too much of a prude especially with how much Eddie blushed over cruder jokes. But then he never had any crushes, never even talked about girls he thought were pretty the way Richie tried to- Richie who would pay attention to which girls the boys in the locker room found prettiest and just repeat it. Eddie didn’t do any of that shit. He’d just fall silent when the topic of girls came up as Bill, Richie, Stan, and Ben started to go on at length about the kinds of girls they liked.

Richie hated himself a lot more. It had been easy to hate himself for being gay this entire time, but now he realized how fucking isolated it must have made Eddie feel to hear that kind of bullshit from his friends.

“I’m sorry,” Richie said softly, “I’m…I’m really sorry.”

“What for?” Eddie asked, genuinely puzzled, his brows scrunching up. Richie wanted to kiss him so badly suddenly, but he settled for kissing that scrunched up part of his forehead instead. Fuck, he loved him so, so much.

“For making you feel alone,” Richie said against his forehead. He leaned back, and there was an open look of wonder on Eddie’s face, his mouth hanging open.

“You’ve never made me feel alone, Rich,” Eddie said, just as softly.

“Yeah I did. With all my bullshit jokes,” Richie said.

“Dude,” Eddie said, smiling a little, “I knew that you weren’t actually getting off with Margaret Plum behind the bleachers.”

“What! Are you saying she was out of my league, Eds? I’m hurt,” Richie said, leaning hard into joking, his nerves rattling out of him through absurd dramatics as they always had.

“No. Everyone knew she was a lesbian except for _you._ ”

“What!”

“You’re such a dumbass sometimes,” Eddie snorted, and Richie put his hand over his chest, falling back against the wall behind him.

“I had a 4.0, Eduardo. I’m the stuff of legends.”

“I know, and you were an honors student,” Eddie said, “I remember Stan being so mad because he could never quite keep up no matter how hard he studied. Meanwhile you were over there sticking pencils in your ears and asking if it made you look sexier.”

“Did it?”

“Absolutely.”

They both started to laugh, and they started laughing so hard that they started crying, and then they were just _crying._ Richie loathed crying in front of people, but Eddie? It was different with Eddie. He’d cried in front of Eddie before. On days when his mom stared through him before spitefully making some off-hand comment about how she wished she’d made a different choice when she’d been pregnant with him. Days when everything felt like it had caught up to him and wanted to choke him to death. He’d sobbed on Eddie’s lap before, and Eddie would silently stroke his hair and let him get it out of his system.

Richie crushed Eddie against him in a tight hug, and he rubbed the space between Eddie’s shoulders while Eddie sank hands into his hair. Their regular strokes of comfort, and Richie grinned against Eddie.

“Can’t believe we both coulda known this forever ago,” Richie said, rocking Eddie a little. “I sure as fuck would of felt less lonely.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said.

“Me too.”

They could both be sorry, but as the tears dried out, Richie realized that they didn’t need to be sorry now.

“Hey,” Richie said, once they had both calmed down. He eased Eddie back from him to look him in the face. Eddie’s nose had gone bright pink, his eyes no better, and Richie kissed his forehead again. It was being too affectionate too much – he knew that- but fuck if he could help himself.

He was trying hard to ignore the wall of _EDDIE IS GAY_ running over and over through his mind like a bad Matrix graphic. He had to focus. On Eddie. Always on Eddie.

“We know now. Now we can die as butt buddies together,” Richie said, and Eddie swatted him on the arm to which Richie reacted with appropriate dramatics of pretending like it was the most painful thing ever. He whined loudly, rubbing at the spot. “Jeeeeesus, Eddie, careful with those guns. They’re loaded and I’ve got a thing for fisting.”

“Richie!” Eddie shrieked, and Richie wound his arms around Eddie, picking him up, which only made Eddie shriek louder.

“Eddie, I can’t help myself. Now that I know the cutest patootest boy ever alive is gay I might actually stand a chance at happiness. C’mon, whaddyea say, let me make love to you. I’ve even got Africa’s ‘Toto’ at the ready for some ample mood music.”

“ _Richie!”_

“I’ve been fantasizing about munching on your ass since I was twelve, Eddie, please let a man live.”

_“ **Richie**!” _

“God I love it when you yell my name.” Richie was being obnoxious and he knew it. He couldn’t help it. Even if there was no chance in hell, there was something here now. Something special that hadn’t been there before. Richie realized what it was. He felt like belonged, like someone finally _saw_ him, understood him.

And the best part was he knew Eddie didn’t hate him for it. Richie might hate himself forever for it, but Eddie never would, never could, and Richie spun him, smiling up at Eddie, feeling him squirm like an eel in his arms.

“Put me down!”

“All right, all right,” Richie said, lowering Eddie onto his feet, but he didn’t take his arms away. “I can’t help myself, Spaghetti Man.”

“Don’t _call_ me that,” Eddie said, shoving at Richie’s chest in an earnest attempt to push him back. Richie just held him harder.

“Hey,” Richie said again, realizing what he had been about to say earlier for real. “You’re not sick, you know. For being gay. I mean, I know that’s like a thing people actually believe. And maybe it is fucked up, I don’t know. But I think that’s Derry speaking more than anything. You’re not sick though. Not for this.”

Eddie grew still, his struggling stopping, and his hands just rested against Richie’s arms. He breathed slowly, evenly, and Richie realized how much Eddie had calmed down since earlier.

“I’ve always felt sick because of it,” Eddie said, “I used to think…I used to think being gay was a literal disease. Like. Actually…But something in my head’s just like…I don’t think _you’re_ sick for being gay. And I’m trying to tell myself that if you’re not sick for being gay then I can’t be either.”

“Exactly.”

“But I’ve been telling myself I was for the past…For my whole life.”

“I get it,” Richie said, his voice growing serious then. He loosened his hold on Eddie, but he kept on holding. He didn’t want to let go. Not right now. Not when they both needed this so badly. “I don’t think either of us are about to fall into some huge self-love revelation, here. I’m thinking the same shit, you know? I’ve hated that part of myself forever, but I’m standing here thinking I can’t hate that about Eddie. Not my Eddie. You’re fucking perfect. There’s not a thing about you I hate. So. I don’t know. Maybe it’s okay for us to love that part of each other until we learn to love it ourselves.”

“Richie,” Eddie said, and his eyes were a little wet again, but this time he didn’t cry. “Richie I love all of you. Maybe especially that part.”

“Yeah, Eds, me too,” Richie said, because of course he loved Eddie back. Eddie’s mouth twisted into a bit of a frown, and his hands came to rest against Richie’s shoulders.

“No, Richie. I love you,” Eddie repeated.  
  


“I love you too,” Richie replied automatically. No-brainer. He loved Eddie.

“Richie. I _love_ you.” Eddie paused, and when Richie just stared, Eddie tried again, “I’m in love with you. Richie, I’m _in love_ with you.”

Richie’s first reaction was to laugh. His lips curved into his crooked grin, and he laughed softly, but there was no real heart in it.

“Dude, fuck off.”

Eddie’s expression didn’t change. If anything, he looked more intent than the entire night. More intent even than when Mike first told them about how It had erased their memories so thoroughly.

“Dude, fuck off,” Richie repeated, but this time he sounded scared.

“No,” Eddie said quietly, “I need you to know that. When you got caught in the deadlights, I thought I’d lost everything ever worth having. I realized that I just fucking let you _go._ I never even fought for you when I was a kid because I was such a fucking coward.”

“Eddie-.”

“ _No,_ ” Eddie’s voice got louder, “No. I’ve waited over thirty fucking years, Richie. It’s okay if you don’t love me back, but I love you and I _need_ you to know that. We can be best friends til both our balls are drooping on the floor from old age, but know that I’ll be in love with you every single second along the way.”

“Eddie,” Richie said, his own voice tight, and he realized his vision was blurry again. “You- you can’t…You can’t love me, dude. That’s. You’re…You’re…You.”

“Yeah, and you’re you, and I think that means I never stood a chance.”

“But I-. I’ve…” Richie started to cry then before he could even help it. He really started to wonder if he _had_ died back under Neibolt, if he was caught in some ugly vision of Its. He’d seen so much fucked up shit under the deadlights. Had seen Eddie die a thousand different ways, but when he’d woken up out of the deadlights to Eddie over him, he had moved instantly. He hadn’t stared dumbly, uselessly, in wonder and awe, like the one vision. He moved. He rolled them fast and hard, and they both had the bruises to show for it, but It had missed snapping Eddie’s arm off, had missed stabbing him through his chest.

And Richie still had Eddie. Warm and alive and so fucking in love with Richie Tozier, apparently. What if it was just some giant thing? What if Eddie’s face was about to split open into Pennywise’s ugly mug?

“I’ve loved…” Richie’s breath was growing thin, and he felt Eddie sitting him down on the edge of the bed, a hand sliding over his back. Richie pushed his fists up under his glasses and shook his way through a gasp. “I’ve always loved you so much. I still do. I love you so fucking-. So much.”

Eddie didn’t respond right away, but his hand clutched at the back of Richie’s hoodie, and Richie felt his shoulders curling in. Some part of him wondered if maybe Eddie had meant it in a platonic sort of way, if he was just-.

Eddie kissed his cheek softly, and then again.

“I can’t kiss you from this angle,” Eddie murmured, “Can you maybe look at me?”

Richie sniffed, his tears having stopped, and he rubbed at his eyes some more before doing as he was told. Eddie was grinning at him, toothy and boyish, and Richie felt like they were kids all over again. The same two kids they always had been. Eddie with his thousand-freckled face, Richie with his too-big glasses and uselessly long body.

“I really hate this fucking town,” Richie said with a breathless kind of laugh. They could have had…Fuck. They could have had everything. “I would of snatched you up so fast. You don’t even know.”

“You still can, you know,” Eddie said, tipping his head, “I’m here for the snatching. I think that’s kind of the point of…this.”

“I’ve never dated anyone,” Richie said, “I have literally no fucking idea how to date.”

“Yeah, I’m somehow not shocked that you’re not some romantic guru,” Eddie said dryly, “But neither am I. We can both keep our standards ground-level here.”

“I wish I’d said something,” Richie said, “Back when we were kids. I would have never let you outta my sight.”

“I know,” Eddie said, “I would of followed you anywhere.”

For a moment, the hurt of a thousand moments lost simmered between them. Heartbreak of lost opportunities and a million what-ifs. Fuck, Richie had been so stupid. Been so stupid and let his own issues wreck something so beautiful. That hate buried itself a little deeper inside of him, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever forgive himself for this.

He could have made Eddie so much happier. He could have given him a good life. Would have gone to college with Eddie, would have stayed clean for Eddie, would never have even so much as touched a fucking joint for Eddie. He would have married him even before it was legal to, would of just gotten them matching rings and have Stan draft up some bullshit papers. And the moment it was legal, he would of dragged Eddie to a courthouse to make it official.

“Are you gonna take my name?” Richie asked. “When we get married?”

“Oh, are we engaged now? I didn’t realize,” Eddie said.

“I mean. I’d like to be,” Richie said, completely earnest. Eddie stared at him, his mouth open, and Richie was starting to wonder about that kiss Eddie had mentioned.

“Isn’t that a little fast? I mean, shouldn’t we date or something?”

“Baby, have you seen our lives? We haven’t really led conventional ones here. I’ll take you on a date every day for the rest of your life, but if I don’t marry you immediately, I think I’ll fucking die.”

“We’re not getting married in Derry,” Eddie said.

“Okay, fine, but we are getting married, right?”

Eddie laughed, and there was something loose and wonderful about it. It was the first real laugh Richie had heard from Eddie in a long, long time. He could feel how stupid the smile on his face was already.

“I mean, yeah, obviously. And yeah, I’m taking your name. I want nothing to do with…” Eddie paused, and Richie knew. He knew perfectly well. No one realized how badly someone wanted to escape someone’s abuse – even if it was just in name. That distancing could be so freeing, Richie thought.

“Then you get my name, Mr. Tozier. Now how bout that kiss?”

Eddie’s smile tasted as good as it looked, Richie discovered. When they kissed, it was as natural and easy as an ocean current running over sand and every bit as perfect, as warm. Richie got swept away with the tide, and he wondered how there weren’t more poems in the world about the beauty of a man’s mouth, a man’s shape. His hands found that shape in the soft material of Eddie’s shirt, his leggings, and Richie was touching, exploring, making new discoveries and naming every single one after himself. _Mine. All of this is mine._

He doesn’t remember when they stopped, or how long they went for, but they pressed and flowed against each other with ease. Their mouths figuring each other out, and he found the best angles, the best takes, and the entire time he fell more in love with Eddie than he even thought possible.

When they finally did stop, they just breathed together, Richie’s forehead resting against Eddie’s, and he marveled over the simple fact of what it felt like to be kissed for the first time. What it felt like to kiss someone he loved, someone who loved _him._ And when he looked into Eddie’s eyes, he didn’t feel any rush of panic or paranoia. He knew this wasn’t It trying to haunt him, knew it wasn’t the deadlights, knew it wasn’t some elaborate scheme to out him.

Richie knew well enough what this was.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on tumblr @ freshreddie. I'm always answering questions and i get really rambly so uhhh enjoy ig! i'll post this there too.


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